maybe i fell in love when you woke me up
by earlgreymilktea
Summary: Five times Kuroo wakes Kenma, and one time Kenma returns the gesture. [kurokenmonth prompt: free day!]


**kurokenmonth prompt: free day!**

* * *

 _i. age six_

His bedroom door slams open, probably creating a new crater in the wall, and Kenma jumps violently in his bed. All traces of previous sleep is thrown out the window.

"Kenmaaaa! Wake up!"

In his doorway stands a boy with wild messy hair, as if he just rolled out of bed himself. The boy grins at him, baring his teeth, and Kenma cowers underneath his blankets.

"Rise and shine, Kenma, it's time to play!"

Kenma shakes his head, pulling his covers over himself again. He hopes Kuro will just go away if he hides long enough.

The next thing he knows, his blankets are forcefully yanked off his bed. Kenma makes an upset sound, but doesn't resist. Kuro's already sticking his hand in his face, smiling widely.

"Let's go, Kenma."

Kenma sighs, but obliges.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _ii. third grade_

Kenma's face scrunches at the feeling of somebody's finger poking at his cheek. His eyes stubbornly refuse to open.

A soft, smirking voice whispers above him. "Kenmaaaa~ I know you're awake." The poking returns, more prominent than before.

Kenma swats half heartedly at the offending finger, to no avail. He pretends he doesn't care for another minute, before Kuro's poking finger becomes an annoying, patting hand on his face. He opens his eyes, frowning at his friend.

"Good morning!"

Kenma pushes his friend off him, yawning. It takes him a minute to remember where he is, the different ceiling, the change in furniture, the ridiculous clutter. He slept over at Kuro's again.

The said boy squats next to him, already changed and looking more awake than his permanent bedhead should allow. "Ma's making breakfast. After that, we should go to the park to practice more volleyball, okay?"

Kenma sighs. "Do we have to."

"Yes, Kenma. Volleyball, and then your games, okay?" Kuro stands, then reaches out a hand. "Wakey wakey, Kenma."

Kenma takes his hand.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _iii. middle school_

Kenma wakes to hands desperately shaking him out of his messy, horrible, dark dark dream. His own hands are wildly clutching at another warm body sitting up next to his bed, a half-familiar voice murmuring beside his ear, calming him down slowly. He gasps for air, blinking his eyes open to the dimness of his own room, with a guest futon laid out on the floor next to him. And Kuro, kneeling beside his bed, arms around him, telling him, "It's okay, it's okay, it's just a nightmare." He doesn't even remember what his dream was about, only that it terrified him, and he doesn't want to go back. He clenches his fists into Kuro's shirt.

"Hey, hey," the older boy murmurs, patting his head softly. "Are you okay?"

Hesitantly, Kenma nods. He makes no move to extricate himself from his friend.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Kenma shakes his head no.

"Okay. Do you want to share my futon?"

Kenma nods.

Kuro's hand take hold of his own slightly smaller ones, still trembling slightly at the rushing of his heart, and they sink down together into Kuro's futon. The slowly fading warmth from where the older boy had vacated it in a panic to reach a frightened, choking Kenma is replaced by two warm bodies, fitted together like Tetris blocks, hands still clasped tight in an anchoring comfort.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _iv. training camp_

Kenma's mind comes back into consciousness in a sluggish manner, like trickling water in a summer heat wave. His back is suddenly warm, too warm. He opens his eyes, but his view is blocked by his DS that he was playing before sleep overtook him. He shuffles in his futon, quietly so as not to disturb his teammates. His tired eyes can just make out messy hair and sharp features on the pillow next to him.

"Kuro?"

The older boy looks at him apologetically. "Sorry I woke you."

Kenma shakes his head slightly. He shuffles backwards, allowing more room for his captain and his longer limbs. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah."

Kenma nods once, eyes blinking slowly. He turns again, back facing Kuro, but keeps his body just close enough to touch. A moment later, he feels a familiar arm sliding across his waist. He sighs, but leans backwards into his friend's hold just the same.

When he next blinks open his eyes, the room is too bright and there are too many faces peering down at him and is that a camera flashing-

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _v. college party_

There's an insistent nudging at his side. Kenma shifts, trying to ignore it, to return back to that warm floaty sensation he was drifting off to, his head all hazy and light. Then, a hand is shaking his shoulder, and reluctantly, he cracks his eyes open.

"Kenma. Wake up. Come on." A mess of wild black hair. Sharp eyes. Concern. Familiar. Kuro.

"Hi, Kuro."

"Yeah, hi. Come on, Kenma, let's get you up. You've had too much to drink, hadn't you?"

Two strong hands are pulling him to his feet, where he sways and warbles out a complaint. He's not drunk, he's just a bit tipsy. His eyes can't seem to focus, the room tilts dangerously. Okay, maybe a lot tipsy.

"Sorry, Kuro," he mumbles, leaning against his friend as they make their way across the room, carefully avoiding stepping on other human beings.

"Nah, it's a party. You weren't the designated driver, so you might as well have fun, eh? You have fun?"

Kenma starts to nod, and then stops, because that made his head hurt. He tugs on Kuro's sleeve. "Shouyou."

"Kageyama's got him, don't worry."

Kenma hums. He follows Kuro out the door, walking slowly so he doesn't fall on his face. He did that before he fell asleep. He thinks. Maybe he should fall asleep again. He's tired. And warm. And floaty.

"Come on, Kenma. Let's get you home."

Kenma reaches out his hand. Kuro takes it.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 _et i. apartment 015_

For once, Kenma wakes before Kuro does. He sits quietly, after checking his phone for messages. Kuro is still sprawled on his side, pillows strewn across their bed haphazardously. Kenma stares down at his friend's face, all familiar angles and relaxed in dreaming. He reaches out, slowly, fingers outstretched.

"Mmmf." Kuro's brows scrunch up, just the slightest bit, as Kenma's fingers trace up his cheekbones. Then his face relaxes again.

Kenma smiles slightly. He continues to trace the older's face, over the proud nose, the high forehead, the softer-than-they-look lips. He leans down, placing his own lips over them.

Kuro wakes slowly, like melting chocolate over vanilla ice cream. His body is already responding to Kenma before his mind is clear of fog, and his hands frame the smaller's face in a gesture so familiar and so intimate they both pull back, breaths mingling. Kuro smiles. Kenma smiles down at him, and for a moment they just lie next to each other, all soft grins and glowing contentment.

If this is what it's like to wake up from now on, he doesn't mind.


End file.
